Those Left Behind
by wscaster
Summary: One of the team has died in the line of duty. Now Gibbs is left to clean up and remember. This story contains the death of a major character and also mentions a slash pairing. If either of these topics offend you please do not read.


**AN: This story is about the death of a major character. The death is not detailed graphically, this is about the aftermath of that death. If you do not like these types of stories DO NOT READ. This story also mentions an established slash partnership. Again if you do not like reading about male/male partnerships DO NOT READ. There is nothing graphic in this story, but touches on death and slash. You have been warned.**

**Please read and review but keep your flames to yourself, bewarned this author has teeth and is not afraid to use them when flamed. :o) Enjoy, and tissues will be handed out at the end for those who want/need them!**

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He'd done this before. For people who he'd known, had worked with closely and even for someone else on his own team.

Each time he'd done it, it had hurt.

Doing it for Kate had hurt like hell.

But that seemed trivial to what he was feeling now.

He'd put it off until he was alone. Until he'd known that his team, his family were all taken care of. Now he was alone in the darkened bullpen. Surrounded by ghosts of lost agents, of friends and of family.

He'd asked McGee to take Abby home and stay with her. Look after her, and by doing so Gibbs had also known that Abby would take care of Tim. He was proud of the way that Tim had handled this, he made a mental note to let him know that. He didn't tell his team often enough and he knew it. Tim had looked so lost when it had happened. But it hadn't taken much to rally his youngest agent and then they had worked tirelessly until they had caught the bastard.

He looked at the things that were on the desk. The post-its with reminders, the pen that had been a gag gift from Abby. Gibbs found himself smiling as he memories assailed him of good times, happy times. He'd make sure that the pen made it back to Abby, along with a few other things. He knew that she would treasure them.

He started going through the desk, checking things. Placing some things in a box to take home with him, others were put aside for someone else. A few things for Abby, some for Tim. He didn't have to worry about checking the possessions to make sure someone didn't get something that they were never meant to see. After all there was no where to send them.

Except to him.

He'd been grateful to Jen when she'd come by a couple of hours ago and had insisted on taking Ziva home with her. She may have been a strong fully trained Mossad Officer who most suspected was also a fully trained assassin, but he knew just how much this had affected her. After all her friend had died while protecting her while they had been undercover. That was never easy. And they had been friends no matter what some people thought. Ziva was not made of ice. She felt things and felt them deeply. But like Gibbs she rarely showed her true emotions. That way lead to people you cared about getting hurt or worse.

He'd finished with the top of the desk now and also the filing cabinets. It was time to move onto the draws.

He sat back and looked around the office. Not really seeing the here and now, but remembering times in the past. The good times when they had been messing around. Times with Kate and Tony bickering like siblings. The friendly competition between Tony, Kate and McGee and later Ziva. The laughs they had all shared over the years. The tears they had shared. Times when Abby or Ducky or even Jimmy would come up and visit or bring them something.

Times that would never happen again.

He sighed and started on the draws.

The top one held the usual, spare bullets, office supplies, business cards. A few note spare notebooks. Most of that would stay or ended up in the bin. It wasn't important. The second draw was harder. It held a few letters that he'd received from people he'd helped over the years. Also some files that he'd been working on or keeping close so that he could go over them when he had the chance. And the notebooks that had his work in, where he often wrote what was on his mind.

The bottom draw was the hardest.

The bottom draw was one that had always been kept locked. Not that that had ever stopped him in the past. This draw was where Tony had kept the things that had been important to him. This was where he kept the medals that Gibbs had won. Where he kept the cards that Abby had sent to him when he'd been sick or in need of cheering up. Where he'd kept the things that Gibbs had given him, a note thanking Tony for his help, the menu from the restaurant they had gone to on their first date. The paper from their last anniversary present had been carefully folded and pressed and placed in a folder under the box that held his medals. It also held his sketchpad. He wasn't an artist like Kate had been, but he could hold his own. It had been a pass time that had relaxed him, that had allowed him to think.

He felt the tears running down his face.

But he no longer cared.

He was almost done. Just a few more things and he'd be done.

He looked up as he heard the ding of the elevator. Tony's desk had a direct line of sight so he immediately saw who it was. No need to hide. No need to run.

The few people who were in the office at this time knew what had happened that day and had given them the space they needed. Now that he was alone they still didn't approach. But for different reasons. Tony had acted as a buffer. Deflecting the wrath of Gibbs from the unsuspecting or foolish. But Tony was no longer here. And most knew of the close relationship between Gibbs and Tony. They had never hidden what they had, but they also hadn't gone around shouting it out. Their private life had never invaded work. Those who knew them didn't care, and those who had a problem with them didn't matter.

"You done Duck?"

Ducky nodded as he stopped in front of Tony's desk. His hand wavered over the box of Tony's belongings. His heart ached.

"You didn't need to do this tonight Jethro. He'd understand if you left it for a few days."

"I needed to do it." Gibbs sat back in Tony's chair. "What's the verdict?"

"Young Anthony did not go without a fight."

Gibbs snorted.

"Abby identified the poison before she left. The effects of the poison were greatly sped up because of the beatings that he received. But the cause of death was the blood loss from the gunshot wound."

"He didn't give up you know. Even at the end he fought to stay with us, with me."

"Of course he did, he loved you Jethro. Never doubt that."

"I know."

The silence stretched for a few minutes. It was comfortable. But it gave him time to think, to remember, to know that his lover was gone. That one of the best things to ever happen to him had been taken away.

Again.

But there was nothing for him to do this time.

No bad guy to hunt down.

They had gotten their men.

One would rot in a cell for the rest of his natural life.

Another would burn in hell thanks to Ziva.

And a third would be locked in a psych ward until hell froze over.

And he was done.

Tony's desk was clear now.

All of Tony's possessions were in neat little piles or in the box.

He'd made the call to Tony's father earlier. Well he'd tried. He'd gotten as far as DiNozzo Seniors personal assistant before being told that she would pass the message on. He'd received a call a couple of hours later saying that Tony's father had been told but he'd told his assistant to pass on the message that he was not responsible for anything to do with his son.

Gibbs had been pissed, but not surprised.

After all he'd gotten pretty much the same response from DiNozzo Senior in the past when Tony had been injured or when he'd had the plague. He didn't expect to see him at the funeral.

"You should go home and get some rest Jethro."

"I will, just got a couple of things left to do. You heading out now?"

Ducky knew that there was no point in arguing with his friend. It wouldn't change anything. He spared his friend a final look and then left.

Ducky nodded. "Yes I'm taking young Mr Palmer home with me, he's a little shaken up by the whole thing."

Gibbs took a moment to gather himself as he watched his friend leave.

He looked around the bullpen and he knew.

He was finished.

He gathered up all of Tony's belongings. He put the things he'd decided to give to McGee and Ziva on their desks. Then he made his way down to Abby's lab and placed the things for her carefully on her desk in her office. Then he did the same with Ducky's in autopsy. He'd left the things for Jimmy there as well knowing that Ducky would pass them on.

Tony's funeral was the day after tomorrow. They were all off until after the funeral. Jen had insisted that they take some time. Take time to grieve, to be there for each other. To be away from prying eyes.

But he knew that he wasn't coming back.

He couldn't face the job without Tony there to keep things lighter with his sense of humour or his constant movie references. Or his keen insights and instinctual leaps in investigations. Tony had been the glue that had held them all together, the soul.

He'd come in after the funeral and clean out his own desk.

Tony had made such a difference to so many people. More than he'd ever known. And now he was gone. The office felt a little darker, a little colder and a whole lot emptier. Or maybe that was just his heart. Just him. But he knew that that wasn't entirely true. His family, his true family, had lost something great today. Something that they would feel for the rest of their lives.

He'd been lucky twice now. Once with Shannon, then again with Tony. He couldn't ask for more. Not really.

He hoped that Shannon and Kelly were now looking after Tony.

Without Tony he was done, he couldn't stay here.

Maybe he'd go to Mexico.


End file.
